Don't worry: I will
by writertron
Summary: In Which Yassen Pursues Alex Despite Her Protests And Alex Issues A Rather Unfortunate Challenge. ONESHOT fem!alex


Don't worry: I will

by Writertron

_I don't own Alex Rider_

"Leave me the hell _alone,_ Yassen," Alex snarled, tossing her head to get the long strands of loose blonde hair out of her face as she practically stormed along the top of the wall at a speed between a jog and a sprint, long now-damaged coat billowing behind her.

He looked up at her from where he was keeping pace on the ground. "Someone has to keep you out of trouble," he replied mildly, something suspiciously like amusement in his ice-blue eyes.

"_Someone_ does not need to be the Russian assassin who got me into this whole mess in the first place!" she snapped, moving easily over the raised top of a support post as she continued on.

"You still claim it was all my fault?" he asked in disbelief.

She gave him an acid glare, brown eyes smouldering in fury. Yassen smirked, wondering what it would take to get them smouldering with… _other_ things.

Alex seemed to be reading his mind, because her gaze transformed into a full-put death glare. "That's because it _was_ all your fault. _You_ killed my uncle. _You_ pointed me out to Cray, and _you_ were the one who thought it would be oh-so-_funny_ to tell me to go to SCORPIA while you faked your death!"

He frowned. That was slightly unfair. "It was a good idea at the time," he replied.

"A _good idea?"_ she nearly shrieked. "In what way was putting me at the mercy of _Julia Rothman_ a good idea?"

He shrugged, leaping easily over a small bush. "You learned a lot there."

Alex wanted to strangle him, all the more angry since she knew exactly how to most effectively commit such an act thanks to the _learning_ in question. "And nearly got killed, _again,_ because _someone_ let me believe my _father_ had been nothing more that a contract _murderer!"_

He was mildly offended now. Associating someone of his or John's calibre with a common-or-garden murderer was a blow to his professional pride. "Assassin, Alex," he corrected. "He was an assassin. In fact, I wasn't the one to tell you that. All I said was that he saved my life."

"He was an assassin," she mocked. "But no, he wasn't even a damned _assassin_, was he, Yassen? He was a bloody double agent working for the same bastards who keep dumping me into these situations, only _he_ was naïve enough to believe it was for a good cause!" She almost tripped as the heavy sole of her black combat boots dragged on an uneven brick and swore. "Bloody patriot…" she muttered.

Yassen's lips twitched. "So, in fact," he began reasonably. "It was all John's fault? After all, if he hadn't been a "naïve patriot"" – she could hear the quotation marks – "then firstly your uncle would never have become your guardian and died leaving you to the mercies of those "bastards", and secondly the bastards in question would never have noticed you." Alex growled at him. He carried on, beginning to enjoy himself. "And even then, the blame can shift to Ash, who got so hooked up on his failure that blowing up his only friend and his wife seemed like a good idea. Or perhaps Blunt should be blamed for that, since he was the one to scrap Ash. Then, after that, Ian Rider had twelve years in which he could have got you out of Blunt's scrutiny, but instead decided that training you to be a spy was a _good_ idea. Then, he was stupid enough to get caught on a basic surveillance mission…"

"I get it!" Alex snapped. "It's everyone's fault apart from yours. Of _course_. How could I think otherwise?"

He grinned slightly, eyes scanning their surroundings. "You know, you're making a big target of yourself up there," he said conversationally.

"Better up here than any closer to you," she retorted waspishly.

"Ouch," he commented. "Don't you like me?"

She bared her teeth at him. Nice white teeth, he noted absently, all straight as well. "I'm beginning to think that you are _stalking_ me, Yassen, since you turn up _every single time_ I get into a life-or-death situation."

He shrugged, ignoring the fact that this was quite close to the truth. "As I said, someone has to look after you."

That didn't go down well, he noted, seeing her fists clench before one of them hastily relaxed in order to stop pulling on the bloody gash down her forearm. "I do _not_ need a babysitter," she gritted out. "I can look after myself _perfectly_ well…"

Whatever she was going to say next was broken off as a chunk of brick was blown out from underneath her descending foot. "Shit!" she yelped, instinctively arching as she tumbled groundwards, twisting so she landed running. Yassen drew abreast as she wove across the open grassland, ducking away as further bullets whistled towards her. "Any bright ideas?" she demanded of him.

Yassen took a moment to admire the way her lean muscles flexed, face fixed in determination, defiance flashing in her eyes, long blonde hair whipping around her head like a wild, out-of-control halo. She was wearing a grey vest top and loose black jeans under her coat – was the style called a duster? – with grey fingerless gloves protecting her palms and knuckles. Practical and yet flattering. "None that you'll like," he commented.

She shot him an irritated glare. "Then you'd better think of another one fast."

He suddenly moved, leaping at her, using his full body weight to bring her tumbling to the ground, trapped beneath him. He smirked down at her flushed and suddenly furious face. "But its such a _good_ idea," he said mock-plaintively.

"Get off me," she hissed. "This is no time for you to start _again_ – they're gaining on us…"

Yassen snorted in amusement. "You're already caught, cub."

Alex's eyes flashed in fury and she began to struggle, her lithe body wriggling beneath him, swearing under her breath in a long string of expletives. "Bloody assassins…"

Yassen was unable to deny his body's response to the sight and sensation of Alex Rider flushed and sweaty rubbing her body against his. "Alex, you probably want to stop that," he remarked.

She gave him a death glare. "I don't think so," she hissed, arching up off the ground in an attempt to dislodge him.

He stifled a groan as she inadvertently pressed her small breasts against his chest. _"Alex…"_ He shifted slightly and she froze.

"Yassen." Her voice was surprisingly calm given the circumstances, she considered. "What, exactly, is pressing against my leg?"

He gave her an innocent look. "My gun?"

She blushed bright red. He reflected that she looked positively cute when she was embarrassed. "You keep you gun in your _crotch_, now?"

"Well…" He moved his face closer to hers, watching her every minute movement with fascination.

Alex could feel his breath brushing her lips. The intimacy of it brought another blush to her cheeks. "Yassen, you are more than _fifteen years_ older than me. We've been over this. There is no way that…"

His lips suddenly covered hers. She froze, eyes wide, unable to do anything but stare as he released her from a surprisingly gentle yet intense kiss. "Why not, Alex? I assure you that I will be able to keep up with your youthful vigour…" The slyness in his voice as well as the way his eyes raked over her features made her blush again, cheeks practically glowing now.

"I'm _sixteen,_ Yassen," she hissed, trying to jerk her face away so he wouldn't be able to kiss her again, and failing miserably as he nibbled lightly on her jaw.

"Legal, then," was his only reply.

She yanked her head back again and his lips dropped to her throat, making her breath catch as they rested on her pulse. "Yassen, what part of being old enough to be my father do you not understand? I'm not interested!" A voice in the back of her head pointed out that she had already made this point on previous occasions and he still didn't seem to care: if anything, he was being more dogged this time than ever before. It also, unhelpfully, pointed out that she could well be repeating this so often simply because she couldn't think of another reasonable excuse, since he was admittedly attractive, and her heart did that annoying skip thing whenever she caught sight of him which she suspected might have just as much to do with his looks than the fact that he had turned up in time to stop her dying yet again.

He paused in his ministrations to murmur in her ear, making her shiver as his breath ghosted across he skin. "If I was your father, I would not be doing this, would I, cub?" His teeth closed lightly on her earlobe and her breath hitched again.

She shook her head to dislodge him. "Quit calling me that!"

He laughed softly. "But it's such an apt name…"

"Given to me by the _SAS,_" she countered.

"Ironic how they got it so right, isn't it?" he commented, shifting again. Alex felt some of his weight let up and tensed. What was he doing? "You are exactly like a little cub, all softness and claws, a deadly predator in the making."

She felt his hand drifting to slide into her top and stiffened, desperation starting to make itself known. "Exactly! A cub. A child!" There was no way she could stop him if he'd really set his mind on this – all she could do was try to make him stop and be thankful that he wasn't brutal.

He laughed again. "Not quite, cub."

His warm hand was touching her breast now. She started to tremble. "What would my father think of this?" she asked in desperation, clutching at straws.

Yassen stilled for a long moment. "I guess we'll never know, cub," he murmured. He suddenly looked up, seeing their pursuers coming closer, and turned back to Alex. Abruptly, he knelt up, all his weight on one leg between hers, forcing them apart. Before she could so much as yelp a protest, he had taken hold of the hem of her top and ripped it, revealing her toned abdomen and black sports bra. He settled in this new position, hands now roaming across her exposed skin. She was too shocked to react, dazedly realising that his hands on her bare skin felt good, really good, and why was she protesting again?

"Gregorovich." The voice that interrupted was a soldier's voice.

The assassin barely spared him a glance, continuing his exploration of Alex's body. "Yes?"

"She's been ordered executed." The voice was matter-of-fact.

"Pity," Yassen responded somewhat absently, smoothing his thumbs across the small breasts, smirking as Alex jerked beneath him. "I'm keeping her," he added. Keeping me? Alex wondered incredulously, before her entire body shuddered as he leaned down to blow across her bare skin.

The soldier didn't sound happy. "He wants to see her corpse, Gregorovich."

Before anyone could blink, Yassen had his gun in one hand, pointed unerringly at the soldier's face, even as his attention remained fixed on the girl beneath him. "I'm keeping her," he repeated, lips brushing Alex's collarbone.

"…Very well," the soldier said eventually, attention now focussed on the gun barrel pointing between his eyes. "Make sure you keep a good hold on her, then."

Yassen's lips twitched into a smile. "Don't worry," he assured the soldier. "She won't be escaping this." Alex shivered, mouth opening in protest, but Yassen was nipping at her skin and she couldn't form a word.

The soldier grunted, backing away. Yassen moved his lips back up her throat to the corner of her mouth, his hands – once he had ticked the gun away – now slipping _underneath_ the fabric of her bra so she gasped again and he was instantly kissing her again, keeping her mouth open as he kissed her more deeply, pushing his groin against hers as his fingertips worried her nipples. He felt her resistance fade, felt her instinctively kiss back, and grinned, drawing back slightly, watching her gasp for air, wide-eyed. "Still going to protest, cub?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yassen, I don't want you!"

He hummed against her throat. "I think you do."

"I _don't!" _she insisted.

He sighed softly, standing up, arms wrapping around her to cradle her against his chest so she couldn't get away from him again. "I don't believe you," he informed her, beginning to walk.

"I don't care!" she snapped. "Just put me down and leave me the hell alone, pervert!"

"Harsh words," he reprimanded. "Especially since I am going to disprove them."

"I'd like to see you try!" She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

He just laughed. "Don't worry, cub: I will."

_I'm hoping it came across as light romance with Alex protesting a bit much rather than anything else. I you think it should be rated higher please let me know so I can change it. And yeah, I know Yassen's very OOC but I don't care. I like it this way. If you don't like, fem!alex, that's your problem - personally, I don't think there's enough fem!alex fics out there_


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